We all know the scene well; we turn on BBC 4 hoping to catch a shred of originality in the usual blandathons that constitute music festivals nowadays. The camera pans over the crowd and as usual caught mid-crowd (not too near the front, it’s violent down there don’t you know…) is a twenty-something chick (is that allowed?), tanned, with the Colgate smile perched on her boyfriends shoulders craving her five seconds of fame (sorry, Andy – time passes quicker nowadays). In the background we can hear The Vaccines/Editors… You choose it always seems to be the same line-up (don’t worry I will get to the point eventually), and the point is that chick will not like the album in question. The reason being it’s too damn dirty, sexy and dangerous for her and her ilk.
Right let us get the reference points out of the way before we dive in. Take a dash of early Birthday Party, a splash of The Stooges and garnish with William Reid’s best feedback, allow to simmer for 15 years on a low light (or life?), bring to the boil in 2013 and we have the sonic assault that is Slave Vows.
It kicks into life with an eleven minute dirge called dark circle that could have come from Richard Fearless’ Death in Vegas crew, with the opening five minutes vocal free consisting of a heavy distorted bass riff whilst the guitar shrieks all over it. This really sets the tone for the whole album as Deguzman’s guitar steals Joe Cardamone’s thunder on all but a couple of tracks.
The better tracks are the longer more subtle light and shade assaults of the opening track and also ”Marathon Man” and “Dead Body” whilst the throwaway “No Money Music” and “City Job” create a slight lull in proceedings mid album. “Rat’s Ass” (great title) closes the eight tracks and is a standard punky pop affair not befitting the closing of what is a stunningly great piece of work.
Lyrically it’s mostly indecipherable, buried in layers of distortion and feedback conjured up by the corrosive guitar lines, but the diamond bullet to the forehead moment comes in the aforementioned opening track, as the dirge subsides Cardamone comes in with the simplest of lines: “The tide goes out and the tide comes in.” This in itself is the total essence of the band. The tide will continue for the next billion years or more and if these guys have any say in the matter then they will still be nailing rock’s long dead corpse to that big old cross until then and you know what? That ‘chick’ still won’t like them.
The Icarus Line – Dark Circles
